


Mugged Part 1

by rosa241



Series: Brothers, lovers and everything in between [16]
Category: The Musketeers
Genre: Rochefort mentioned, Treville is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 14:04:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa241/pseuds/rosa241
Summary: A spate of muggings round Paris have had the city in a spin. The red guards are on top of it…right?





	Mugged Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been asked multiple times to provide some real Athos angst. I finally decided to oblige.

Mugged: Part 1

By Rosa241

**Aramis POV:**

“What did that slimy toad want?” Porthos grumbles as Athos makes his way back down the path towards us. As if parade duty at the palace wasn’t bad enough we’d had to put up with Rochefort grinning like the cat that got the cream. I swear I’m about a week away from letting Porthos punch the smug smile off of his pathetic face. Either that or I’ll do it myself.

“Oh he just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page for dealing with these muggings.” The muggings had been steadily getting worse over the last few weeks. It had started out as nothing more than a few working women reporting getting robbed, which naturally no one took much notice of even though they should have, but then it had progressed. More and more people were getting robbed and beaten by a group of men who were steadily making their way around the city.

Rochefort had somehow managed to convince the king that the Red Guards were more than capable of dealing with the problem. Naturally he’d rubbed it in just about as much as he could, smug git.

“On the same page? We’re not even in the same library.” My grumble sends a grin across D’artagnan’s face and even Athos manages a slight tug of the lips. Sometimes I wonder how much longer we can keep going like this. We’re meant to be protecting the King, that’s part of what being a Musketeer means, but more and more I feel as if we’re nothing more than pawns in Rocheforts plan. I don’t like that feeling.

“He’ll make a mistake soon enough and when he does we’ll be ready to take him down.” Athos’ words do nothing to settle my feelings that have growing increasingly worried of late.

I really thought that we’d be able to get things sorted. None of us thought that Rochefort was going to be able to go this far with whatever it is that he’s planning. Something in me can’t help thinking that something is coming, something big and dark. Something that I’m not sure that we’ll be able to handle.

“Cheer up ‘Mis. We’ll get him.” Porthos’ words of encouragement again do little to comfort me but eventually I force those feelings to one side. Worrying about what might happen won’t help. All it’s going to do is drive my mind to a place I don’t want it to go.

“Yes we will and when we do we’ll be laughing all the way to the palace.” D’Artagnan echoes my words which makes me smile.

_We’ll get him._

_I just hope we get him sooner rather than later._

**Athos POV:**

Walking down the streets of Paris at night has always been something that calmed me. All those nights I was unable to sleep for fear of the nightmares that would plague me I was far too drunk to realise the beauty of the city. Now my nights are more sober I can see first hand the wonder of the city at night. The way the moonlight makes everything glow is just something else.

Of course it would help if I wasn’t being followed.

The rather tall gentleman had been following me since I’d left the garrison. His intentions, whilst not clear, were no doubt to rob me.

He’s chosen poorly.

As I round the corner I stop in the shadows and wait for him to appear. Naturally he’s behind me and rounds the corner moments after me.

“Hey!” His shout is the only sound to appear from him as my hand clamps over his mouth and the other holds the dagger up to his neck.

“Would you care to explain why it is that you’ve been following me?” Naturally he says nothing and offers me nothing but a grunt to the question. Pressing my dagger closer to his neck draws a trickle of blood which seems to move his tongue.

“Alright, alright it was Moreau!” He gasped out.

_Moreau?_

The name seems familiar but I can’t quite place it. Shaking that from my mind I focus on my would be attacker.

“What exactly were Moreau’s intentions?” He shifts slightly as he attempts to get out of my grip but once the dagger shifts with him he stops. The man may be a fool but he’s not completely stupid.

“I don’t know he just tells me who to get.” _Who to get…wait…_

“The muggings. He’s behind them.” Although he says nothing the sharp nod confirms my words. “Why?”

“I don’t know I swear. He doesn’t tell us anything.” _Moreau? Why do I know that…wait-_

“Us?” My brain catches his words a moment too late and a hand clamps down around my throat.

“Yeah. Us.” 

**Aramis POV:**

Wandering down the stairs I find the scene in front of me slightly disconcerting. Since the four of us have come together there’s been a pattern in the mornings that has never wavered. Even when on missions it was the same.

Athos wakes first. The man got very little sleep and woke often in the night even when drunk. Although the drinking had desisted over the last few months his sporadic sleep pattern hadn’t. I fear that is far too engrained in him to stop now. I suppose I can’t have everything. Porthos was usually next. As soon as people were up and about he was following not long after. Years of living in the court had taught him to be alert and away as soon as possible. I was always after him usually waiting for the sun to fully rise before stepping outside. I apparently value my sleep more than my companions. D’Artagnan, with the least time behind him, hadn’t seen the number of horrors that we had and as such slept more soundly. He was always the last awake.

“Where’s Athos?” Addressing the others as they sit at our normal table. _Perhaps he’s with Treville._

“No idea. We thought he might be with you. Early orders or something.” Porthos speaks through a yawn the mans never been good when it comes to mornings.

“I haven’t seen him.” Naturally Porthos’ worry increases the moment I speak. We all know that Athos is always up first, always. It’s one of the few things in the world that we can guarantee on. The order of the morning would always remain the same. Athos would surface first followed by Porthos who, despite not being a morning person, had long since been conditioned to rising early. D’Artagnan and myself usually followed next within a short while of each other.

“Where could he be?” _He better be with Treville. Oh don’t be such a worry wort. This is Athos he’s probably just hung over or something._

“HELP!?! Please…someone help!” The womans scream came as a shock and half the garrison are on their feet with their swords drawn in an instant. Before I can blink a young woman comes stumbling through the gates. My eyes are not drawn to her blonde hair that falls in waves across her shoulders nor to her blue dress that shines with the early morning sun. My eyes, to my horror, are drawn to the blood coating her hands and dripping onto the floor. “Please…”

“It’s not hers.” D’Artagnan confirms as he helps the young woman to her feet and quickly checks her over. He sits her at the table where she shakes for a moment before grabbing hold of his hand.

“Please the man…the man you must help him…” Between her crying and clear panic I can see the fear in her eyes.

“What happened?” D’Artagnan attempts to get her to talk however her panic is taking over.

“The man…the man please…”

“Show us. Please.” Despite her fear she’s on her feet the moment my words are spoken and drags us out of the gates with a strength I hadn’t thought she would possess.

“I thought…I thought he was gone. I thought…” Her words are broken up by her cries but she swallows and attempts to move on. “I thought he was gone but…but he’s not. He’s alive.”

Rounding the corner she pauses momentarily at the cross roads before darting to her right. She stumbles a few more times before coming to a stop at the end of a long path. With a shaking hand she points towards the other end, a hand I note is still stained with blood.

“Over there.” Following her trembling fingers we quickly find ourselves upon a scene which turns my stomach and has my legs threatening to give way. In fact were it not for the wall I’m quite certain my body would have crashed to the cold floor.

“Athos!” I’m the first to find my feet, a mere moment before Porthos, and slip down next to our unconscious leader. “Athos?”

“What’s wrong with him? Where’s the blood coming from?” My hands roam over his torso and make quick work of removing his tunic. The source of the bleeding becomes quite obvious when my eyes meet with a large cut running across his abdomen. The wound is deeper than I’m comfortable with but, although it’s obvious that he’s lost a lot of blood already, I sincerely doubt that this cut is the true source.

_He must have…_

“There’s a second wound somewhere. D’Artagnan go back to the garrison and alert Treville.” Looking up at the young man it becomes obvious just how pale he’s gone and for a moment my heart goes out to him. He’s never had to watch Athos like this before. We don’t have time for him to panic however. “D’ARTAGNAN unless you wish for him to die get moving!”

My shout snaps him out of his frozen state and he’s off like a shot. It’s cruel to say but I have to get him moving. We don’t have time. Porthos rips off his cloak and tears a few strips off of it. We’ll need to bandage his stomach but first I need to locate the second wound. Thankfully it takes only a moment more before the stab wound to his lower back is found. I almost send up a thanks when I find it. Almost. Although both wounds are deep enough to have bled significantly neither is deep enough be fatal. Not yet.

_He might just make it._

“Let’s bandage his stomach and then we’ll get him back to the garrison.”

**Treville POV:**

Watching him lying there seems so strange. The man is always on the go never stopping until he collapses into sleep. Seeing him so still makes my blood run cold.

_Who could have done this?_

_Athos is the best swordsman in the regiment. Who could have done this?_

Shaking my head I force my thoughts off the pale man lying in front of me and focus my attention on the other three men.

“Any clues as to who did this?” None of them are paying attention to what I say and I’m forced to repeat my question which has all three sets of eyes snapping towards me.

“No. The poor girl who found him has no idea what happened. She didn’t see anything until she fell over his body. It’s a good thing she did.” _Who knows how long he’d have lain there if she hadn’t._

“The others are already out asking around, seeing if they can find out what happened to him.” In truth I wanted to send the three of them out there since I know that if anyone can get answers it’ll be them. The four of them are my best team for a reason. However right now they need to confirm that he’s still alive before they will be ready to leave him.

“He was attacked that’s what happened. Someone jumped him.” There’s an ounce of disbelief in the youngest members whispered words. Athos is the best swordsman in the regiment. No doubt he’d be able to take on any man in his path. How many were there for him to have been beaten? “His swords gone.”

D’Artagnan had been strangely silent since he’d raced through the gates and alerted us to Athos’ condition. I’d thought it was shock at first but apparently not. Evidentially he’d been thinking and paying closer attention than the rest of us.

“Ey?” Porthos gazes round the room in search of the missing item. “Maybe we left it when he brought him here.”

“No. It wasn’t there I checked.” That explains where the young man had darted off to after Aramis had all but thrown them from the room.

“He was mugged.” Aramis steps back into the room in a clean tunic just as the words leave our youngest’s lips. Sensing the mans confusion I explain.

“Athos’ swords missing, we think he might be the latest victim of the muggings.” For a moment none of us say anything as we take it in. Athos being bested by these men means one of two things. Either the men doing this are unbelievably talented with a sword or there are far more of them than Rochefort would have the King believe. I know which I suspect. Anger overtakes me as I watch my would-be successor, my best man and my friend lying on the bed struggling for life.

“Aramis stay with him and send word should anything happen.” The man nods having already taken up position by the unconscious mans head. We would trust no one else to remain by his side, no one. “D’Artagnan go with Bernard and Lambert see what you can find out.”

Although it was obvious that the young man didn’t want to leave his mentor I can see the desire in his eyes. He wants to find out who did this more than anyone. Since his arrival the two of them have had a special kind of bond and I can see how hard this is hitting him. Sitting here is going to do nothing but drive him crazy. Reluctantly he stands after a moment and makes his way out of the room.

“What about me?” Porthos questioned as he stood. Much as he wanted to be with his brothers he knows we need to find who did this more.

“You’re coming with me.” With a sharp nod to Aramis we’re out of the room and the stairs before he asks anything more.

“Where’re we going?”

“To the palace.” His eyebrows rise at my words but he says nothing as we head out.

I’m not a fool. There’s only two reasons why Rochefort would work so hard to gain this investigation over us. Either he’s determined to make us all seem incompetent which I’ve no doubt he enjoys or he’s got something to do with this. My moneys on the latter.

_I’m coming for you._

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s the end of part 1. Don’t worry I will be continuing this but I’m wary of making this too long since I’m still working out some details. I got quite far into this before realising that I was no where near done despite having written almost double the amount of words I’ve got here. I decided to split this since this is a natural conclusion to this ‘chapter’ where as the rest of it doesn’t really have one and I’m a bit stuck. I’d rather split this now and give myself time to think carefully about the way I’m going to end this instead of rushing it to get the whole thing out and making a mistake or not doing it justice. 
> 
> Spoilers – Next fic will be called – Mugged Part 2


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